?Chapter 722:


    Hell toyed with the ring on his index finger, his lips curving into a subtle smirk. “Your turn, Miss Hond.”


    With deliberate calmness, Corrine revealed her cards, speaking with quiet intrigue. “And what happens if there’s a tie, I wonder?”


    Her words hung in the air, provoking a ripple of disbelief among the onlookers. Even at such a critical moment, this woman still wore her mask of courage, a calm veneer masking the storm within. It was a rare urrence for a gambling game to end in a tie. In fact, ties were nearly unheard of—because in games like this, someone always lost, and someone always walked away with everything.


    And yet, as the crowd nced at her cards, their expressions froze in shock. Their jaws dropped, the room holding its breath, utterly stunned by what they saw.


    Corrine got 21 points as well!


    Hell nced at Corrine, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.


    He hadn’t anticipated that she would match him point for point. With a meaningful smile, he remarked, “You’re starting to intrigue me, Miss Hond.”


    “Shall we continue, Mr. Martel?” Corrine inquired, her voice steady.


    Hell rested his head on one hand, idly toying with the chips on the table. “I may not share your good fortune, Miss Hond. But, how about we strike a deal?”


    Corrine pressed her lips together, her expression neutral as she waited for him to borate.


    “I can offer you what you seek, but only if youe with me tonight.”


    At his words, the onlookers exchanged sly nces, an understanding passing between them.


    Even the most resolute men couldn’t easily resist the allure of a beautiful woman.


    And here was Mr. Martel, seemingly falling under the same spell. Though undeniably attractive, Corrine wore a ring that clearly marked her as married.


    g?lnσν????s is your storytelling haven


    Could it be that Mr. Martel had a special penchant for pursuing women already taken?


    “With your stature, Mr. Martel, surely you have no shortage of women.” A low, rich voice suddenly interrupted.


    All eyes turned toward the speaker.


    Upon seeing Jules, the crowd couldn’t help but exhale in unison, a sense of relief washing over them.


    If it had been anyone else, challenging Mr. Martel might have ended in catastrophe. But with Jules, a member of the Ford family, it was a different story entirely.


    After all, the Ford family had been the wealthiest in Lyhaton for decades, and such power was not to be taken lightly.


    The room fell into an uneasy silence.


    Gaze shifting between Hell and Jules, the atmosphere grew thick with tension—so thick it seemed to suffocate them all.


    Hell’s expression darkened slightly at the sight of Jules, his earlier casual demeanor evaporating. “True, I don’tck for women, but a woman like Miss Hond? She’s something else entirely.”


    .


    .


    .